The sudden popularity of the Chinese safety app Demumu, formerly called Sileme or Are You Dead?, has thrown fresh light on the risks of living alone. Designed for young city-dwellers, the app alerts emergency contacts if a user goes silent for too long.In Mira Road, a group of ageing adults who live by themselves have their own analogue version of this safeguard.Twice daily, Zarina Ramzan Vadsariya, 66, receives a WhatsApp greeting from 35-year-old Anjum Virani: ‘Yaa Ali Madad, Good morning / evening, Kem cho?’. If she doesn’t respond, Virani calls. If there’s still no answer, she drops by.The women are part of an outreach programme called Sathi, launched last year by the Aga Khan Social Welfare Board for the Ismaili community, that pairs seniors living alone with community members who help them negotiate daily life. Volunteers are trained in ways to assist the elderly, such as accompanying them to the bank or doctor, or shopping for their groceries, says Virani, who leads the initiative at Nav Yuvan Jamatkhana in Mira Road.Vadsariya, whose husband passed away ten years ago and whose children live abroad, says she’s less lonely these days thanks to Virani’s calls and visits.Once dependent on the goodwill of neighbours and family, elders going it alone today are discovering more dependable forms of support. From community-based initiatives to digital platforms, they have access to more support systems than before and are readily embracing these networks.Such networks have grown as living alone has become increasingly common among ageing adults, a trend shaped by choice, widowhood, separation or divorce or children migrating for work. According to the Longitudinal Ageing Study in India (LASI) 2020, about 6% of Indians aged 60 and above live alone, with women (9%) three times more likely than men (3%) to do so. A more recent survey by the Agewell Foundation’s survey (2024), based on a smaller sample, places the figure much higher at 14.3%, with a slight urban skew (15%) compared to rural areas (13.4%).Ageing alone offers autonomy but also increases the burden of self-care—from running households to managing finances. It can also lead to social isolation. One-third of respondents in Agewell’s survey said loneliness was the biggest disadvantage.
Ageing online
Apps have emerged as a new social commons for older adults, offering daily interactive sessions designed to keep them cognitively sharp and emotionally connected. Fiona Pinto, 75, was introduced to the seniors’ app Khyaal by her sister-in-law to help her cope with the loneliness of widowhood. “I’ve come to depend on it,” she says. Her day starts with yoga, moves into an interactive hobby or life-skills session at midday, and ends with bingo after lunch. Over four years, she has won Rs 9,000 worth of digital gold in prizes. “I live alone and take part in whatever I can to pass the time,” says the IC Colony resident, who has even travelled with Khyaal on senior-friendly tours to Kashmir and Kerala. A similar app, GenS Life, was launched last year by Meenakshi Menon, 67, to look at every aspect of senior life. With free and paid plans, the platform offers yoga and Zumba classes, health and financial advice from vetted experts, live concerts and karaoke, interest-based communities, and steep discounts on third-party services such as accident insurance, domestic worker verification, concierge services, and even fact-checked news. Like Demumu, it also has an SOS feature. Apps for seniors deliver what they want, where they want it most: at home. “Roads and public infrastructure are not senior-friendly, and confidence in navigation declines with age,” Menon says. These challenges make older people reluctant to leave their homes.
Ageing in place
Adhata Trust draws them out. Every evening, 20-25 ageing adults gather at each of the nonprofit’s 18 free ‘holistic well-being centres’ in Mumbai and Navi Mumbai, to practice art, senior Zumba and chair yoga, play sudoku and scrabble, or just shoot the breeze. There are weekly lectures from subject experts on digital literacy, environmental conservation and other topics, as well as the occasional outing or social campaign–on issues such as e-waste and elder rights—creating a culture of learning and community engagement.“As they get to know one another, the support they need comes from within the group itself,” says Clara D’Souza, gerontologist and CEO of the 14-year-old organisation. Members have accompanied each other for cataract surgeries and even to police stations to report online fraud.Some seniors are striking out in ways they never did before. When her building went into redevelopment, 79-year-old Hemangi More single-handedly looked for a rental flat, negotiated with movers and set up her new home. She credits Adhata for her newfound independence. “Previously, my late husband handled everything. Now I do, and I’ll continue to as I grow older.” The organisation taught her to use a computer and smartphone, navigate Facebook and Instagram, and manage digital payments confidently.Adhata also runs a programme called Shared Assistance for Elders that rents medical and mobility equipment to the elderly at nominal rates, and livestreams several of their in-person fitness sessions and webinars for house-bound elders–supporting its core mission of enabling ageing in place rather than institutional care.
Seniors step up and out
This emphasis on staying put is echoed across eldercare initiatives today, in striking contrast to the senior housing sector, which often frames relocation as aspiration. “Today’s seniors place a high value on dignity, autonomy, and staying connected to familiar environments,” says Hemanshu Jain, founder of Khyaal, which has over 5 million members. Ageing in place, he admits, require access to reliable healthcare, strong social networks, digital literacy, and responsive support systems, but “technology-led, community-driven platforms have made strides in bridging these gaps.”In Mumbai’s Parsi baugs, a different kind of technology is closing the distance between isolation and social interaction for ageing adults: the motorised wheelchair. Four years ago, the World Alliance of Parsi Irani Zarthoshtis(WAPIZ) donated 19 of them to baugs and independent Parsi buildings to address a mounting challenge: elderly Parsis marooned on higher floors. “Lack of lifts is a major issue in our baugs,” admits Anahita Desai, a trustee of WAPIZ and Bombay Parsi Punchayet. The community has a staggering proportion of members older than 60 years—31% by the 2011 census and likely 60% today, says Desai. They are looked after by community-led welfare initiatives, including one that provides volunteers to bathe and groom seniors who can’t look after themselves, and helps clean their homesand arrange daily tiffins.The Punchayet and some Parsi charitable trusts also provide needy seniors with monthly income ranging from Rs 1,500 to Rs 5,000 and help with medical expenses. But with its low-rent apartments and vibrant community life, Desai says, the strongest safety net for ageing Parsis is the baug itself.
